nightbirting rituals

Jacklyn Janeksela

cresent & crescending, the fingernail trails a line along facesuntil it reaches a hole where i’ve been hidingrested & wrestling, i crawl towards a light that i know is oursthe second full moon of our cycle : be thee thankful for days

blueish but not blue : tinkering on a willow branch : it’s skylike my father’s eye : or is it my brother’s : Capricorn rising :the thread of a sweater of a surgery of a birth

if i could only fit my fat head through the tunnel . then .i could be life.

earthen it rolls : sparks a fire if dry : enough, that’s blasphemy : swishinghair like fish fins or dangling drapery : it’s a strand of my mother : is it is me :the Virgo wig binding : bound me to a brown i’ve never been before